


Your Heart Will Go On, Mine Probably Won't

by gomushroom



Series: Neighborhood Theater [2]
Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-02
Updated: 2015-09-02
Packaged: 2018-10-12 02:50:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10480467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gomushroom/pseuds/gomushroom
Summary: Thanks to the piano guy, the concept of quiet weekday nights gradually became foreign to Jun.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Prologue of this Series is [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10481640/chapters/23125629).
> 
> Based on these random prompts I stumbled on Tumblr: _What the fuck are you doing it’s midnight why are you playing 'My Heart Will Go On’ on the piano’ AU_.
> 
> I had once tried my hand at a Neighbor AU. This could count as loose continuation with bits of the universe adjusted for (writing) convenience – in form of a song fic lol, with one of the songs I truly hate, 4 years later, and from Jun’s POV instead of Sho’s. What supposed to be simple just refuses to stay short and coherent, asldkajsl, so here I am few days late into the party. Happy belated birthday, Jun ♥!

_Every night in my dreams~_

It was not even a dream, yet it happened every weekday night.

What started to be endearing and cute—because practicing an almost-familiar tune at nearly midnight is something that has made Jun smile in amusement once—had turned to be constant annoyance. These repeated two bars of melody could always be heard at precisely 23.30. Jun once synched the timing with his TV alarm and the exact starting second began at the same time the national clock strikes the minute, frustrating him even worse.

Something needed to be done and because he’s a kind person, he went to see Aiba first.

 

“So have you finally talked some senses into him?” Jun scooped more of lasagna chunks onto Aiba’s plate, feeling proud of his achievement in the kitchen this morning.

Just as planned, he dropped by on Aiba’s flat around an hour ago with a large bowl of lasagna treat, some cheap wine, and a determination to have Aiba sided with him on this issue. He really needed good news, now that he had been loosing sleep for two weeks in a row. “You know, my rowdy neighbor.”

Aiba laughed, grabbing his wine glass, and making a toast to Jun’s. “Matsujun, he’s a nice person and not at all rowdy. A little bit inconsiderate maybe, but definitely not rowdy.”

Jun began to have a bad feeling about this. He settled in front of Aiba, trying to get a clue of what had happened. “What do you mean by nice?”

“Don’t you think he looks nice?” Aiba didn’t let anything on or answering Jun’s question. Instead he settled his glass, beaming his thanks to Jun before starting to eat.

The diversion tactic didn't deter Jun curiosity. He was in a mission after all, and the lasagna was his weapon of choice. It should not be wasted as just treats. “So have you properly informed him about my complaints?”

“I did pay him a visit last Sunday afternoon,” Aiba said. “He was very polite, inviting me for a cup of coffee, and we talked about the new movies he’s currently reviewing, and then - ”

“So, you haven’t informed him about my complaints?”

“I have,” Aiba sighed, aiming a frown look at Jun, even if it didn’t look convincing at all. “I totally have, as requested.”

“And?” Jun waited because it seemed that there were more than just Aiba passing his complaints to the piano guy.

“And he was very apologetic about the noise,” Aiba said, looking straight into Jun’s face with his own apologetic smile. “He said he will buy a new headphone so he would not cause another disturbance for you and the other not-complaining neighbors.”

“And?”

“And that was it. What a nice person, right? He then gave me few discount coupons for the summer blockbusters and I was thinking that we could use them-- Hey, where are you going? I haven’t finished that.”

In quick moves, Jun put the lid back on his large Tupperware even if Aiba’d only eaten half of them. He then grabbed the wine bottle, took a look around the small coffee table, and nodded his goodbye to Aiba. “I’m going home and will spend the night enjoying the wine while starting to look up for a new place.”

Aiba stood with a fork still waving on his right hand, glancing sadly at his almost empty plate, and sighed.“Matsujun. There’s no need waste good food.”

“I’m leaving. This is supposed to be your reward, for good management skills and successfully dealing with that piano guy, none of which you’ve done.” He swiftly walked back to the door before slamming it as hard as he could manage with full hands.

He can still hear Aiba shouting behind closed door. “That piano guy’s name is Sho-chan, by the way!”

“I don’t care!” Jun shouted back before he could hold back. Obviously now that his landlord had taken side with that piano guy, Sho-chan or whatever his name was, Jun needed to take his complaints to the next level.

 

That night, Jun tried to finish the whole batch of lasagna and failed. He finally stored the whole Tupperware and settled with the wine. Maybe, tomorrow he just left the leftover in front of Aiba’s door—Jun made it for him anyway.

He was lounging on the couch with the television on mute, scrolling on his email inbox when the first note began. He had to admit that he had been waiting, breathing the silence in anticipation, and the piano guy was on time—the clock on the bottom left of the late night News on TV showed 23.31. Jun had to fight the urge to slam his phone onto the coffee table when the familiar melody started slow, before repeating several times.

What was this song, anyway?

His curiosity would certainly kill him, if his pent up anger didn’t do it first. Yet while Jun gritted his teeth, breathing in and out to control his anger, his mind was searching for the tune. He knew that the tune was something that he had listened, once, twice, sometime ago. It was not an original song, that he knew for sure, but what was this song, anyway?

 

Ohno took one look at him before stopped sketching. “You didn’t get much sleep again last night, did you?”

Heaving his large bag on their shared desk, Jun nodded and rested his head on his folded arms. “It’s still weekdays. You know how it goes by now. It’s like they guy knows that I have to be in the office early in every morning and just goes nuts with practice.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“You’re not sorry,” Jun said before he regretted the words. “I apologize, Ohno-kun. This is all my lacking of caffeine brain talking.”

“The machine is brewing.” Ohno chuckled as he turned his concentration back to his sketches. “Or I saw some interns setting few fresh takeaway cups of ice coffee in the table for the meeting.”

Jun smiles at the idea. “Good one. You’re definitely getting a slice of my apple strudel for lunch dessert later.”

Ohno grinned cutely at him in return.

 

For two nights in a row, Jun managed to work himself to exhaustion, arriving home after 2 AM and heading straight to bed. His neighbor could blast the whole album of death metal madness for all he cared and he would still fall asleep face down on his bed.

The trend continued until the weekend, where he at least could expect peace—he suspected no piano for the weekend is because the piano guy was not around during the time. He relished on the peaceful weekend nights but still, the melody of the song lingered and haunted him.

As Jun curled, willing himself to sleep, his mind floated back to the melody, the sad and haunting melody. He had a certain dislike to it, something he couldn’t pin down, making one’s heart hollow with sadness, with hopelessness.

_Near~_

Jun fell asleep without resolution as his mind continued wondering and unconsciously missing the melody.

 

Jun had only referred their very brief and formal first meeting years ago as the usual encounter, except he also remembered that the piano guy –he was not going to start calling the guy Sho-chan all of a sudden because Aiba said so – was wearing a rolled up on the arm damp grey t-shirt, face shining with sweat, and a stupid smile.

Since then, he hadn’t a chance – now that he thought about it – to meet the man again, only catching the door next to him closing, or the quiet hush of the man muttering to himself when he came back from somewhere in front of his door.

 

“You must truly want something,” Officer Ninomiya said as he looked up to find Jun fascinatingly watching him licking the spoon. “What is it?”

“You really like pudding.”

“I certainly do,” Ninomiya said, “but that’s not what I asked.”

Jun hummed and nodded, but didn’t say anything but folding his hands on his chest and leaned further against the visitor chair. The police booth was small and humid, located on the corner of Jun’s apartment building, an official place to report a neighborhood disturbance.

“We can continue this game though. You’re bringing me pudding every week, I’d gladly accept it, and you still don’t get anything from me.” Ninomiya set the first cup aside to move on to the next one. “I’m not going to say no to pudding or any kind of bribery. This is good stuff after all.”

“Such a dedicated officer you are.”

“Damn right.” Ninomiya finished the second cup in few spoonfuls. “Now I am asking you again. What do you want, Jun-kun?”

“A favor?”

Ninomiya smirks at him, hand already reaching for the third cup. “I would need more than these delicious pudding cups though.”

 

Jun once told himself that he had no problem with the piano tunes. It was the repetition that drove him crazy. Going back to the first bar, again and again, and then again; Jun could have sworn the piano guy had mastered it already. Then, why he kept on repeating the refrain.

The refrain?

It finally clicked, recognition inside Jun’s mind, and he nearly threw his suit pants he was trying to put inside the hamper into the air.

_Far~ Wherever you are~_

Jun lets out a laugh, along with hiccups of chuckles and loud sighs. Of all the songs in the world, the piano guy had to practice with _that_ song? Or maybe there was a reason why the practice kept on _going on_?

 

The next day, Aiba called in the afternoon, inviting Jun to visit his place again with news that Officer Ninomiya paid him a visit and then he talked to Sho-chan, ah, no, the piano guy, again. He simply made the call to dutifully inform Jun that his complaints have been properly conveyed to the piano guy.

Jun only rolled his eyes in response, which Aiba totally didn’t get but Ohno, who was slowly eating the bento Jun made for him across their table, caught a glimpse of. The conversation ended after Jun curtly thanked Aiba for doing what he’s supposed to be doing in the first place and now that his night will be _My Heart Will Go On_ free, he’s informing Aiba that he’s going to have fancy dinner to celebrate.

Jun heard Ohno’s mutter. “I think you like him.”

“Who? Aiba?” Jun laughs. “You think wrong.”

Ohno didn’t reply directly. Instead, he stared at Jun with the same intensity he gave his sketches, leaving his chopsticks hanging in the air. “No, not Aiba-chan. The piano guy.”

“What?” Jun blinked twice. “Where did that come from?”

Ohno shrugged with a smile. Now that his point was spoken, he dived back to his precious bento. “I just have this feeling.”

“You feel wrong.”

“Maybe. But maybe not.” Ohno paused before continued with a beam on his face. “And this _tamagoyaki_ is super excellent, Matsujun.”

 

True to his word to Aiba, the piano guy finally stopped playing. Jun had waited, counting the seconds, this time around. When his alarm turned at the time and there’s nothing but quietness, Jun wanted to shout his victory, open a fancy bottle of wine, or just grin alone in his warm apartment the whole night.

But his mind veered back to Ohno’s off-hand comment at the office. What did he mean by that? Not that they talked about their private life much during their working hour, but Jun certainly had been venting his frustration about the piano guy. Ohno had been a great listener, nodding in silence or pointing out short points when he needed it.

What did he mean by saying that Jun likes the piano guy?

Twenty minutes passed in silence and Jun was getting tipsy from all the wine he consumed during his celebration, before the heavy croon began, quavering into the night, into the comfortable silence, breaking the bubble of comfort and victory and Jun’s sanity into pieces. _I believe ~ that the heart does go on~_

The fuck?

 

_Once more you open the door_

It’d taken all his self-restrain for Jun to not press the buzzer more than once. If it weren’t not for his ‘manner’ he would have kept pressing until the piano guy answered his door. So when the door creaked open, Jun pounced immediately.

“I’m from next door and this has gone completely out of line. Could you keep it dow—?“

All the thoughts flew off Jun's mind as the door opened completely and there he was, the piano guy, Sho-chan, no, the piano guy, standing shirtless with a dangerously-riding-low-on-his-waist dark shorts.

Time stopped.

Or Jun would like to think so, now that he took notice of the sloshy golden brown liquid in the short glass, dangling dangerously on the piano guy’s hand, before looking up to meet the piano guy’s eyes, his round and shining eyes, teary and sad and curious at the same time.

The voice was raspy and deep. “Yes?”

Time stopped again.

Just for a split second though because then Jun had to wet his dry lips for real, desperate to find his voice, to return to his frustration, to utter his last sentence again. “Could you just keep it down? Whatever it is you’re doing.”

“Yes?” Sho-chan, no, the piano guy, said in confusion.

“I could hear you across the hall. And it’s already past midnight.”

“But – “ The piano guy said, “I already plugged my headphone on.”

“You were, ah, singing along.”

“I was?”

“You were,” Jun said. Now that he made his point, he wanted to go back to his apartment, to slam the door loudly, to get away from this absurd situation. “And you better put some shirt on, so you won’t catch a cold.”

As if he just realized that just now, Sho looks down, checking while rubbing his toned abs before running his hand up to his chest – damn it, Jun has no choice but to follow that movement with and resist the urge to wet his lips again– before his gaze went up again, with flush on his cheek and wide innocent grin, meeting Jun’s eyes. “You’re absolutely right. Thanks, Matsumoto-san.”

 

“Then what happened?”

“Nothing.”

Aiba shrieked, clutching a Tupperware lid, while Ninomiya leaned back against his chair, throwing his hands to the air. “Why? God! Why?”

“I didn’t see a point of saying more than I wanted too,” Jun said, busying himself and arranging the rows of Tupperware on the desk to show off the perfectly shaped rows of mini _onigiris_.

Aiba and Ninomiya exchanged exasperate looks for a second before they gave up and reached for the _onigiris_ instead.

Jun sipped his coffee quietly. He didn’t get much sleep either last night, even if the piano guy, or yeah whatever, Sho-chan, stopped playing or singing along after his visit. He ended up packing multiple lunch boxes in the morning, heading to the police booth only to find Aiba was also there having his morning coffee with Officer Ninomiya.

“This is so good, Matsujun,” Aiba said. He stopped munching when a idea came across his mind. “You know, if you like him that much, you probably should start to cook for him.”

“I don’t like him,” Jun said, a beat too fast. “I hate him. I hate that he had to keep playing piano at midnight. I hate that he could be so cool and charming _and_ skunk drunk when I confronted him last night.”

Aiba ignored Jun’s stream of complaints, instead he continues, “But he’s good looking and shirtless _and_ from what I gathered, available. What else do you want?”

Ninomiya answered Aiba’s question for Jun. “You’d want more, wouldn’t you, Jun-kun.”

Jun considered the suggestion for one full minute before he shrugged. “I do but I think I have it under control.”

 

_And you’re here in my heart~_

 

Then what happened?

Nothing wasn’t the truthful answer since Jun had deliberately downplayed, bordering omitting, the delicious details.

“You’re absolutely right. Thanks, Matsumoto-san,” the piano guy had said.

“You know my name?”

“Yes?” the piano guy said with a huge grin. “And I’ve been waiting for this.”

“For what?”

The piano guy’s smile widened and right there, by the opened door, the piano guy, okay, Sho-chan, leaning with a sultry and tipsy look on his bright face, where Jun lightheaded from his wine, midnight continued and Jun made a decision, the hell with questions and frustration. He needed to act now.

Stepping forward to close their distance, reaching to touch the flushed cheek, feeling the small gasp and confusion blooming in Sho’s face, Jun leaned forward for a kiss, a barely there touch of his wet lips against Sho’s jawbone. With his puff of breath grazing Sho’s waiting lips, Jun whispered softly, “You’re stupidly drunk.”

Jun with pleasure watched the piano guy moaned softly with his eyes still closed, breathless, surprised, and vulnerable. “Yes. But what’s that for?”

Instead of answering the question, Jun asked in a whisper, “What do you want for dinner?”

The piano guy finally opened his eyes, blinking with confusion as he formed words and said softly. “Huh? Dinner?”

“Yes?”

“For what?”

“Dinner,” Jun whispered, retreated, returning to his previous stance, taking that one step back, leaned away to give them some space; the piano guy was not the only one who's breathless.

The piano guy slash Sho-chan coughed, nearly chokes, and smiled widely with a pretty blush. “But I’m drunk.”

“I know,” Jun said, realizing he also had a flush creeping up his cheeks, and feeling partially annoyed and partially elated. “That’s why I asked.”

 

_And my heart will go on and on~_


End file.
